


kiss me with rain on your eyelashes

by moonylady



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Magnus Bane-centric, SO MUCH FLUFF, mention of magnus' past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-24 20:21:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12020262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonylady/pseuds/moonylady
Summary: There was a time when the sight of large bodies of water made Magnus uncomfortable, nervous even. Not because it reminded him of drowning, but because it brought up images of fire.





	kiss me with rain on your eyelashes

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [this](http://mundanelion.tumblr.com/post/164413486768/the-richness-of-the-rain-made-me-feel-safe-and) amazing drawing by [@mundanelion](http://mundanelion.tumblr.com/)
> 
> this is a mix of show!canon and book!canon when it comes to magnus' past
> 
> trigger warning: non-graphic description of drowning, past trauma 
> 
> thank you to the wonderful [elle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magnusragnor/pseuds/magnusragnor) for beta'ing this. i love you

He should have known from the moment he woke up to the sound of Alec moving around the dark room, stubbing his toe against the dresser and muttering curses under his breath, that this wasn’t going to be the best day. The fact that it was still dark and Alec wasn’t laying in bed, under the warm sheets and wrapped around Magnus should have been a clue.

“Alexander?” he murmured sleepily.

Through half lidded eyes he saw Alec freeze, his silhouette framed by the city lights filtering through the gap in the curtains they forgot to close the night before, a thin ray of ghostly white breaking through the shadows.

“Hey. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Alec said in a low voice, approaching the bed and perching on the edge. “A team just got back from patrolling and they’re insisting on giving their report directly to me. I need to go, Izzy said it looks like it’s important.”

Magnus wasn't a heavy sleeper. His work didn’t always have the most normal schedule and while he could control the time he met his clients, emergencies happened at any hour. Leaving the comfort of his bed in the middle of the night because of some attack or weird magical occurrence wasn’t as strange of a concept as he would have liked.

So him sleeping through Alec receiving a message, getting out of bed, and wandering his way around the room for long enough to get mostly dressed, was very telling. It was sign of how safe and comfortable Magnus felt in his presence that his body didn’t go into alert mode at this kind of disturbance. That notion was enough to soften the furrow of his brow, if not his pout, at the realization that Alec was leaving at four in the morning.

Heaving a sigh, Magnus intensified his pout just because he could.

“You’ll let me know if it’s something serious, right?”

Alec’s gaze softened, features clearer now that he was closer, his hand running through Magnus’ hair, pushing the dark strands away from his face. “Of course.”

He kissed Magnus forehead, lingering for a second before retreating. While that was lovely and made Magnus heart flutter in his chest, if he was being denied morning cuddles, he was going to need something more to keep with him during the day.

He lifted his chin and Alec got the message, leaning down again and kissing him. It was sweet and languid, the delicate caress of butterfly wings with a slight current of electricity underneath.

“Go back to sleep,” Alec whispered against his lips before pecking them one last time.

He got up, grabbing his jacket from a chair. Before he could leave the room, Magnus snapped his fingers and conjured a portal for him. With one last grateful look over his shoulder, Alec stepped into the portal and out of the loft.

Half an hour later of tossing and turning, Magnus phone lit up with a message from Alec. Apparently the very important thing the team had to report was that they had found a shax demon nest in Queens. Magnus could picture Alec rolling his eyes. That wasn’t particularly urgent or even unheard of, not to mention that Jace and Izzy could have handled that without him perfectly.

If new recruits didn’t kill Alexander, then they will certainly kill Magnus. Or the other way around, Magnus wasn’t sure yet.

Realizing that going back to sleep was a pointless endeavour, Magnus got up and started the day. It only went downhill from there.

First, he was in a meeting all morning with the High Warlock of Oslo, who wanted to consult something with him. That in itself didn’t sound bad, but the man was grouchy and impatient, refusing to explain the situation to Magnus in detail, but still expecting him to solve the problem.

After that, he spent the afternoon meeting clients. The last one was a mundane with the sight but no much contact with the shadow world, and while she was nice and offered him some very delicious cookies, she gave Magnus the impression that she paid for their meeting more for the experience of knowing a warlock and watching him work than because she truly needed his services, since she couldn’t decide on what she wanted and kept changing her requests. No matter how good the pay, and the pink sapphire she paid him with was incredibly beautiful and valuable, he was too powerful to be putting on this kind of show. The time for him to prove himself passed centuries ago.

Needless to say, when he left to go home, he was exhausted and in a bad mood. Adjusting his coat to protect himself against the crisp autumn air, he decided to walk home instead of using a portal since he wasn’t far. Gray clouds that had been present all day were moving lazily in night sky, the stars hidden behind them.

It wasn’t until he was almost at Nightingale Towers that it started raining, but even then Magnus didn’t hurry his steps. He had always liked rain and the light drops falling weren’t enough to bother him.

When he finally got into his loft and closed the door behind him, Magnus released a heavy sigh. It had been a long day, time passing slowly and weighing on his shoulders.

He disposed of his damp coat and started walking towards the bedroom, turning on the lights and putting the kettle on the stove with a tired twist of his wrist.

He took off the rest of his clothes and threw them over a chair, erasing all signs of water from his body and hair with a snap of his fingers. He grabbed a black sweater with red flame designs, light but cozy, along with some black jeans from his closet and didn’t bother with shoes. The cold floor felt good against his feet when he walked to the kitchen, kettle whistling while he picked a bag of chai tea from the cabinet.

There was comfort in doing this manually instead of just summoning it from any café in the city. Watching the steam ascend when he poured the boiling water in the cup, feeling it warm the air around him. His rings clinked against the ceramic when he picked the mug, the light echo of it sounding louder than it really was in the empty apartment.

He intended to go to the couch, settle there with a blanket and a book until Alec got home, but his feet took him to the window the moment he caught the sight outside. The dark clouds were thicker now, rain falling heavier, distorting the view and cloaking everything with a grey hue.

The last time he had stood in front of this window while rain hit the glass, he had been pondering a choice that he never had to make.

He could discern the Brooklyn Bridge, the red and yellow lights of the cars crossing it looking like blurry dots in the distance, the East River a dark mass under it. He was too far away to see the rippling effect of the raindrops hitting the surface, but he swore he could almost hear the steady cadence of rain impacting water.

There was a time when the sight of large bodies of water made Magnus uncomfortable, nervous even. Not because it reminded him of drowning, but because it brought up images of fire.

It reminded him of a kid running through the rural paths of a place that once was called Batavia, water soaking his clothes and and wet hair falling in his eyes, breaths coming too short, hot air and the dust his steps lifted burning his lungs. His legs were tired and aching, muscles cramping with every step, but the boy couldn’t stop, wanting to put as much distance as he could between him and the lake, desperate to reach a place where he could escape the pile of ashes that had once been his father ― _stepfather_.

But no matter how fast or how far he ran, he could still see red and orange out of the corner of his eye, feel the heat of the flames licking at his face and smell the rotten scent of burning flesh. The screams were the worst, anguished but hateful to the end, reverberating in his ears louder than the rapid beating of his heart.

He had not lied to Alec when he said he knew how to control his powers back then. He had been practicing, playing with his magic from the moment he discovered it. Before his mother killed herself he had never been afraid of it, of what it could do. It had been a source of endless wonder, a light in the silence of night. Never a cause of harm. After what happened, however, it felt tainted. _He_ felt tainted.

But that control, as impressive as it was for an untrained child, didn’t extend to his fears. The panic and adrenaline running through his body directed his every movement, from his first frenzied attempts to get away from the hands pushing his head deep into the water, one in his hair, one in his neck, hold tight and unforgiving; to the tremor of his hands still present hours later, visible every time he brought them up to wipe the tears from his cheeks, tendrils of red dancing uneasily between his fingers ―magic still near the surface, hot and ready to lash out at any sign of threat.

_Abomination_.

Lightning illuminated the sky, painting everything in shocking white for a second, pulling Magnus from his thoughts. He hummed, bringing the cup to his lips and counting the seconds in his head until thunder roared. Fourteen seconds. Two point eight miles. That wasn’t too far.

Holding the cup with both hands against his chest, he closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall next to window. Taking a deep breath, he savored the mixed scent of rain and the spices from the tea, letting it settle in his bones. He felt tired and restless at the same time, like the sea before a storm, strong gusts of wind over the surface and too many undercurrents pulling in different directions in the depths. The sound of the raindrops hitting the window was helping him calm down, washing away all the anxious energy. He could feel his shoulders loosening and his back relaxing, a tensed bow string put to rest, even as his hands gripped the mug more firmly.

He could feel the warmth emanating from the cup and seeping into his hands, but also radiating from his insides, spreading from his stomach and chest after the sip he took.

Warmth was the first sensation he ever associated with his magic, not only in a physical way, that tingling humming feeling in his hands when light surrounded them, but also in his soul. Discovering his powers was like drinking wine after only knowing water all your life, not necessary to live, but so much richer, an explosion of color, infinite layers of taste in your mouth, a delicious buzz in your head.

It felt natural to call that power into existence, give it physical form.

For a short while that feeling was shrouded in childish innocence, the lights in his hands felt like bliss and tasted like freedom. But life had always been quick, and merciless, when it came to teaching Magnus. He soon learned that his magic was something much more visceral than that, pulsing and alive. Something that originated somewhere in his belly instead of his chest, hungry and demanding, but also soothing and consoling. Sometimes roaring, sometimes purring.  
  
_Monster_.

Magnus Bane was the name the silent brothers in Madrid had given him. _Great destruction_. He supposed it made sense, especially back then. When he arrived in Spain there was no trace of innocence left in him, mind already hardened against a world that seemed set on hurting him, even if his heart was still a tender bleeding thing. Not that he could ever change that.

Full of loneliness and bitterness no one so young should possess, Magnus knew he was dangerous. He never attacked anyone. After what happened with his stepfather he was careful with his magic, so careful, wary of the hunger he could feel swelling inside of him when he felt too much. And he always felt too much. But the power was there, at tip of his fingers, swirling inside him. Magnus was an angry scared young boy, rabbit heart and tiger claws, a force of nature. The name suited him.

Even then, it took him a while to make it his own. To see beyond it, to recognize the potential to do more than cause havoc and raise hell despite his past. Oh, he could do that, and did it whenever the need presented itself, making sure that everybody was aware of his power ― let others fear it the way he had feared it once. But he was also more than that: he could heal, he could create, he could protect. His magic brought almost endless possibilities, limiting himself would have been foolish.

The sound of a door closing brought Magnus out of his reverie. He opened his eyes slowly, the world turning into focus gradually; outside the loft the rain had evolved to a full raging storm, and the warmth between his hands had vanished, cold ceramic in its stead. But everything faded into the background again when he turned around to the sound of approaching steps. He was greeted by the sight of Alec entering the living room, light from the chandelier reflecting off the beads of water falling from the ends of his hair and travelling across his face and neck, wet clothes dripping on the floor.

He was looking directly at Magnus, sheepish expression painted on his face, and a happy smile blooming on his lips. Breath catching slightly on his throat Magnus wondered if he would ever get over the way Alec looked at him sometimes, as if the weight on his shoulders seemed to lighten up the moment he caught sight of Magnus. Here he was, looking like a very handsome drowned rat, with all reasons to be frustrated and annoyed, but instead he was smiling, looking like Magnus was the most precious thing he had ever seen, like Magnus was a star, bright and burning, a cosmic phenomenon, the only light in this storm.

_They’re beautiful, Magnus. You’re beautiful._

Magnus found himself returning the smile. His feet started moving even before he thought about it, taking him closer to Alec since he apparently wasn’t advancing more into the room due to his drenched clothes. As if Magnus cared about the floor when he could be kissing his boyfriend.

He left the cup of now cold and undrinkable tea in the first table he passed. Once they were close enough, they both leaned forward at the same time. Alec’s lips were cold against Magnus’, the feel and taste of them filling Magnus with warmth despite it. He heard Alec release a sound of contentment and smiled into the kiss.

“You should’ve called me. I would have made a portal for you,” he said, leaning back just enough that he could look at Alec.

“The rain wasn’t this bad when I got out of the Institute,” Alec responded with a shrug.

Magnus arched an eyebrow at him. He knew why Alec hadn't called. Yes, he had been visiting clients and working all day, but nothing strenuous enough to cause magic depletion, his boyfriend worried too much. Not that Magnus could fault him for being considerate.

He rolled his eyes anyway, but didn’t even try to prevent the fondness from infusing his voice. “You’re silly.”

Alec nodded distractedly, gaze directed at Magnus lips, before capturing them in a kiss again. He brought one of his hands around Magnus waist, pulling him closer until their chests were pressed together, the other at Magnus neck, thumb caressing his jaw and tilting Magnus head to deepen the kiss. Magnus closed his eyes and let himself be swept under the tide of emotions that kissing Alec always caused.

The rain and the tea had helped him relax, but it wasn't until he found himself in Alec’s arms, surrounded by the earthy of smell of rain and the lasts remnants of Alec’s aftershave, that he truly felt his muscles unlock. Alec smelled like the first rays of sun hitting the dewy grass, like wet sand moving under your feet when the waves receded from the shore, like a lullaby sung by a voice long forgotten. Alec smelled like home.

With that thought Magnus gasped a little, breaking the kiss but not pushing away, foreheads pressed together and panting breaths mingling. When was the last time that someone could unravel him with just a kiss, that someone had touched him and reached a part of him other than his body.

He had never met someone like Alec, who saw all of him and reacted with wonder and tenderness, who learned his past and felt no pity and not fear, that was horrified not of Magnus but _for_ him. Who got to knew him and still wanted him. That was why it had been so easy to close himself off after Camille, to believe that he would never have this so it was okay to stop trying. He had always been so good at breaking his own heart, it was time he started protecting it. It was also why he had found Alec so enticing from the beginning, with his pretty face and even more beautiful soul, so much hiding under the façade of the perfect soldier. Without even trying Alec had disarmed him, ignited a spark within him he thought extinct and, hopeful fool that he was, Magnus let himself fall, let himself fight for this. And, for the first time, it hadn’t exploded in his face. It had brought him here, to this cold stormy night that couldn’t compete with the warmth in the eyes looking at him.

_There’s nothing ugly about you._

“I missed you today,” Alec said, not letting go of Magnus.

Alec claimed to not be good with words, yet he always managed to leave Magnus breathless every time he made a statement like that ― wide eyes, conviction clear on his expression, blunt and painfully sincere. It had always been extraordinary for Magnus how Alec had learned from a young age to hide, to guard himself, but how he also weared his heart in his sleeve, always shining through when he was with those he loved, present in his kind nature and caring disposition. Protected yet so exposed at the same time.

He knew how easily hearts could shatter. Alec’s faith in him, to not break his, to keep it safe, humbled and scared Magnus. But that was the thing about Alec, he made Magnus want to try, to be better than before, for himself and for them. He gave him hope. If his sins were marked by a red curved blade and tasted like ashes, Alec’s love felt like rain, refreshing and all encompassing, with the promise of the sun and life at the end.

“I missed you too, darling,” Magnus responded, fingers playing with collar of Alec’s jacket, voice low.

“Sorry. About your clothes.”

Magnus frowned in confusion and looked down at himself. Sure enough, his sweater and pants were wet from where they were touching Alec’s clothes.

“Oh, what a tragedy. Guess I’ll have to take them off,” Magnus exclaimed, feigning despair and looking up to Alec with a glint in his eyes.

“Yeah?” Alec responded with a mischievous smile. “You should take a shower too, we wouldn’t want you to get sick.”

“Sounds like a great idea,” Magnus murmured before kissing Alec again,starting to push him in the direction of the bathroom.

“I was thinking we could make pancakes for dinner,” Alec said between kisses down Magnus neck.

Magnus paused, blinking a few times at the out of the blue comment. His hands stopping trying to take off Alec’s jacket, not that he was making much progress with how the fabric was sticking to the shirt underneath. Once the words registered, he laughed happily, throwing his head back; Alec had quite the sweet tooth despite taking his coffee as black as his clothes.

Magnus hummed, in acquaintance and because his boyfriend had taken advantage of his exposed neck. “I’ll even throw in hot chocolate.”

Alec groaned loudly, looking up and locking their lips in a searing kiss, his subtle stubble rasping against Magnus mouth. Magnus should be amused at so much enthusiasm at the mention of chocolate but right now his only concern was reaching the shower. 

For so long Magnus had felt like he had never stopped running after that day in Batavia, no direction and a muffled purpose, afraid to look back and terrified to look forward, for what fate could await someone like him. But now, every time he thought of the future all he could feel was a hand holding his, a whispered promise bathed in shades of hazel.

 

**Author's Note:**

> you can talk to me on [tumblr](http://moonylady.tumblr.com/)!!


End file.
